


A little More Time

by fictive_frolic



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Mild Angst, Multi, Soft!Bucky, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:34:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28153179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictive_frolic/pseuds/fictive_frolic
Summary: Bucky has a crush on his Club's favorite tattoo artist.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 6
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

Bucky Barnes laid on his back listening to the music he’d picked. Old school rock. And he listened to the whirring of a tattoo machine. The dull, constant drone he was so used to now. 

And he was grateful for the wasp stinging feeling in his chest. It gave him something to focus on. Something other than the woman who was leaned over him working on him. Again. 

“You good?” she asked, sitting up and adjusting her glasses, “Need a break?”

“I’m good,” Bucky said sitting up a little to get a better look at her. He loved her like this. Hair coming down, glasses sliding down her nose. It just... it appealed to him for reasons he didn’t understand. Maybe, it was because she looked happy. 

“Afraid Sam’ll find out you tapped out, huh?” she teased, rolling her neck.

Bucky snorted. “You’re chatty today, Y/N,” he groused, without any real heat. It was true. She’d talked to him more than she usually did when she tattooed for him. Nat had told him that she was a great conversationalist. But. Bucky had yet to hear that. Not in all the tattoos and touch ups. 

She smiled a little and adjusted her glasses, “Guess I’m just in a good mood.”

“What caused that?”

He couldn’t stop it. His heart thudded. And he wondered if the vibrations from the machine would help hide it. You were a pretty girl. A really pretty girl. 

And he hated the idea that popped into his head. That a person could be the one making you that content. 

“Maybe I finally got enough sleep,” you snort softly, tilting your head considering for a second. 

“You not sleeping again, doll?” Bucky can’t keep the concern out of his voice. 

“I’m okay,” you say soothingly. More concerned about his tattoo for the moment. Bucky and his club are good customers. 

Really good customers. 

And they do it without taking over your shop and scaring your apprentices. That you can appreciate. When they first started coming around, you had some... doubts. But, they weren’t bad for a bunch of gear heads. Pretty chill. Always paid in cash and in full. 

“Working to hard,” Bucky said scoldingly. 

“The lights don’t keep themselves on,” you sigh, adjusting your glasses. 

“They never do,” Bucky said, wincing when you went back in and started shaping.  
Bucky heard the front door of the shop open. The pleasant little bells chiming gently but loudly enough that you could hear it over the droning of the machine in your hand. 

You make a soft thoughtful sound and glance briefly at the clock on the wall. But then the motor cycle boots on the tile floor make you nod. Bucky and his gang all tend to ignore the closed sign in the window. 

Not that you mind too terribly much. They’re mostly just here to heckle each other. And if they do bring in beer or something, no one gets sloppy. Or mean. And you’re pretty sure the gait coming up is Natasha. She’s not as heavy footed and her step is smoother. 

“Y/N, you sure Bucky’s bad ass enough for that tat?” She said and you snort a little in response as she sets down a six pack on some clean counterspace. 

“Shaddup, Nat,” Bucky groused. He was hoping no one would show up after work today. That he’d get a little more time to be with you. To admire the set of your jaw. The way your glasses slid down your nose. The tilt of your head. 

“I think he can work it,” you hum, not really wanting to agitate your client or give in to Nat. You like Nat. You like having her as a client. And as a friend. But. When you have a a machine in your hand, you don’t appreciate someone making your Client tense the muscles you’re shading on. It’s gratifying when they relax again. 

This is a big fucking tattoo and Bucky doesn’t do breaks. The last think you need is a grown man going into shock and falling off your fucking table. 

Bucky tries really hard not to preen internally as he glared over your head at Nat who was now mouthing “First comes love, then comes marriage,” behind you. It’s no secret at the club that Bucky had a crush. A big crush on you. He likes you. And when he’s really drunk, he gets practically poetic. But. He doesn’t actually want you to KNOW he has a crush on you. 

Nat smirks at him and not for the first time, he’d like to put a whoopie cushion or something on her bike seat. He’d like to but. He also likes being alive. 

When Steve and Sam follow Nat to the back shortly after, Bucky feels himself tense again. Steve is whistling “As Time Goes By.” And Bucky could choke him. It’s not his fault that it’s a pretty song. Or that he really wants you to walk down the aisle to it. 

You look up at him, pausing to push your glasses up. He can read the question in your eyes, “Everything okay?”

Big. Luminous eyes. Beautiful eyes that he could see the concern in. And his heart twisted. “I- I’m pretty sure I better let you got stretch your back out,” Bucky said. And you smile, nodding, “Club business huh?”

“Yeah,” he lied, gratified when you sit up slowly and stretch your neck. 

“We could just induct you,” Nat called as you walk out of the room.

“No,” Bucky said shaking his head.

Steve snorted and Sam rolled his eyes, “C’mon, man,” Sam said, “Just ask her out.”

“Seriously, Buck. You’re gonna run out of real estate to put a tattoo before too long,” Steve added.

“There’s always cover ups,” Nat quipped. 

“And touch ups,” Sam said nodding.

“And you can just keep giving her money and watch some other guy who has the balls move in on your girl. Wedding, Kids, the whole works,” Steve said, chewing on a hang nail. 

Bucky met Steve with a level stare and Steve shrugged. It was the truth. And it wasn’t your fault Bucky had hang ups. He either needed to man up and make a move. Take care of you right. Or let you go. And stop moping around the clubhouse whenever you mentioned a date. 

Your feet sounded in the hall and Bucky looked towards the door. You had two sodas in your hand. His preferred Coke and your Dr. Pepper. “Thought you might be getting thirsty,” you explain, handing it to him and pretending that you didn’t feel like they had all just been talking about you. 

“Thanks, Doll,” Bucky said taking the drink gratefully.

You nod and pick up a clean pair of gloves, adjusting your glasses. “Let’s get this finished out... See if I can’t get this done today for you.”

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N,” Sam said smirking, “Bucky’s not in any hurry.”


	2. Chapter 2

Nat handed you a beer and you shake your head, stretching and stifle a yawn with effort. “Not tonight, thanks,” you answer. “I’ve got an early day tomorrow.”

“Whatcha doin’?” Steve asked, watching you wrap Bucky up to go. 

“Hiking,” you answer, smiling little, “A friend wants to go.”

“What?” Sam sputtered in mock surprise, “You mean you don’t just live here? You have a life?”

“Surprisingly,” you answer drily, rolling your eyes in Bucky’s direction and making him snort. 

When you finish with Bucky you leave him to the mercy of his friends and go to put together his after care paperwork and a receipt. You know that Bucky doesn’t need it. The man might be a mess in a leather jacket but. He can take good care of a tattoo. All of his, even the ones he’s had for years look new. And you appreciated that. It gave you something to look at that didn’t have anything to do with the rippling muscle while you were laying out stencils. 

And it kept you in a professional headspace. Oggling customers was gross. Even if they were really hot. 

And so you focused on the smell of the shop. The Ink, antiseptic, and cleaner. And tried not to smell the cologne, whiskey, and coffee smell that emanated from Bucky. “Jesus Christ,” you murmur, shaking your head. “This is too much.”

“What is, Doll?” A deep baritone behind you made you jump and you whirled around to find Bucky frowning at you. 

You shake your head and smile a little, “Did anyone ever threaten to put a bell around your neck?”

“Only about once a week,” Bucky said grinning, picking up his packet of paperwork and grabbing his preferred tattoo cleaning things from the shelf to add to his total.

You snort and start to process of ringing him out, careful not to look at him too directly for too long. Bucky was like the sun that way, as far as you were concerned. If you looked too long, you were liable to get burned. And that was the last thing you needed. Another complication. And another person to disappoint. 

“Y/N,” Bucky said softly. So softly that at first you thought you’d imagined it. 

Until he said it again. 

“You okay, doll?” he asked softly. 

“Just tired,” you answer, giving him a smile you hoped was care free. 

Bucky nodded, looking like he didn’t believe you but. As Nat, Steve, and Sam wandered out of the back, he didn’t have to opportunity to press. He didn’t want you dragged into their teasing. Not now. Not when you looked… Well. You looked exhausted. And Bucky wanted to take you home and strip you naked before he tucked you into a big soft bed. But. Bucky didn’t want to dwell on that too long. He wants to know why you look… distracted. But. Sam and Steve are trying to book appointments and Nat is asking Steve how the fuck he has the money for tattoos while her bike still has a fucked up paint job.

You’re kind and charming and warm. A business woman dealing with friends. But. Bucky can hear a change in tone. A slight strain. One Bucky has only heard when a group of Drunk college kids wander in and give you some hassle. You don’t like conflict. And he wonders if it might be because he’d startled you. 

Still.

As he left with the part of his crew that had materialized their usual chatter flowed around him like comforting white noise. Something as familiar to him as the rumble of his bike’s engine. But that couldn’t erase the notion that something was… off. 

You were usually quiet. Not too chatty with him. And it made sense. He could be… intimidating, he guessed. He was a big guy with a mysterious (at least to most people) past. But 10 minutes and a beer with him and you’d have most of the story. Like the rest of his club he was a vet. And like the rest of his club… except for Steve they all had a notion of moving to some town they’d never heard of to start over. 

“Nat?” he asked finally.

“Yeah?” she answered over her shoulder, lighting a smoke out of the wind. 

“How’d Y/N end up out here?” Bucky asked, “She’s too talented to have just… grown up out here.”

Natasha snorted, “Well, so far as I can get out of her, that’s EXACTLY what happened. She gre up in some little meth infested hell hole and moved to the nearest city after high school.”

“City?” Bucky said looking around. 

“She figured it counted if it had a bus system and more stores than a gas station and a dollar general,” Natasha said shrugging. 

Bucky nodded, thinking. That filled in some gaps for him but… he wasn’t sure which gaps. He wasn’t sure what he knew and what he didn’t know about you. He knew your favorite color. He knew your favorite soda. He knew your favorite tattoos to do were American Traditional and Pinups. And he knew that you preferred a cold cider to a beer. But… Anything outside of your shop? He had no idea. And… 

Bucky felt his feet stop on the sidewalk and he cringed involuntarily. 

He had a crush on the idea of you. On what you represented to him. Someone to love and protect. Someone that wasn’t going to let him down. Somewhere in his head, he built you up into being some magical, unattainable being he could pine after… And if it were possible for him to kick his own ass he would. 

Hell. He’d call his ma and let her do it. 

“Buck?” Steve said, his voice snapping Bucky out of his head. “You good?”

“I’m a fucking idiot Steve,” he sighed.

“Yeah,” Steve snorted, throwing an arm around his shoulders, “But that’s nothing new.”

“Hey!” Bucky protested, putting Steve in a headlock and miming punching him in the kidney. “Nat take care of my light work for me?”


End file.
